


Lady Snow

by Balerion_the_Dread22



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A bit of a crackfic, Daenerys doesn't know that she is a Targaryen, Daenerys is Dyanna Dayne, Dany takes shit from no one, F/M, I hate downer endings, Incest, Jealous Jon Snow, Jon and Daenerys are siblings, Love at First Sight, R Plus L Equals J, Short Story, The famous Targaryen blood fucks up Ned's glorious plans, Will have a happy ending, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-09-30 14:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balerion_the_Dread22/pseuds/Balerion_the_Dread22
Summary: Daenerys and Jon are twins: Jon Snow grows up as Ned's bastard and Daenerys as Dyanna Dayne, the sister of Ashara Dayne. To bring Lyanna's girl home he betrothed her to Robb, who is pining for another girl. Sadly, nothing goes as planned...





	1. Tears and a bleeding star

**Ned**

The dusty air made Ned’s eyes burn as he pulled himself up the whirling steps leading to the old watch tower. Howland Reed followed after him, blood running out the gaping wound on his side. Ser Oswell Whent had cut him open like a pig, but it was the dagger of Howland Reed who had saved Ned’s life when Ser Arthur Dayne was about to give him the death blow.

“Ned!” he heard Lyanna’s pain-stricken voice as he entered the round chamber. The smell of blood and roses filled his nose as he swept his gaze across the room and found his little sister placed in a great wooden bed.

Her face was pale, but the weak smile curling on her lips was true.

“Lya!” Ned exclaimed and stumbled towards the bed. “Lya!”

“Gods…,” Ned muttered as she touched the soiled bedding. “What happened to you?”

It was the mewling sound of a babe that roused him from his stupor.

“Ned,” Lyanna croaked and tried to reach for his hand, her fever-riddled eyes fixed on the squirming babe in the maid’s hands. Its head was flushed and covered with brown hair. “You have to protect them…Robert will kill them.”

Ned leaned closer and squeezed her hand.

“Them…,” Ned repeated and heard another cry, louder and stronger than the other one.

“Aye,” Lyanna whispered in his ears and jerked her head at a young girl seated in the corner of the room. She also held a squirming bundle in her arms.

The girl rose to her feet and showed the second babe to Ned. This one had silver hair and pale skin. “My babes…the boy’s name is Jaehaerys…and the girl’s name is Daenerys…for the Targaryen Princess that wed the Prince of Dorne…I didn’t expect to have two babes…Rhaegar thought it would be a boy…his _Promised Prince_ ,” she stuttered and tightened her grip on his hand.

“Promise me, Ned,” she whispered again, despair written all over her face. “I wed Rhaegar…Robert will kill them if he finds out the truth…Promise me, Ned.”

Ned didn’t know what to say. Her words felt like a slap to his face. He thought her raped and defiled, but now he realized the truth.

 _It was a lie_ , he thought, his eyes darting back to the babes. _A terrible lie._

With horror he recalled the butchered bodies of Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys and how Robert had laughed when with triumph. _Dragonspawn_ , he had called them.

_No, Robert can never know the truth._

“I promise,” Ned whispered to Lyanna. “Robert shall never know the truth.”

Lyanna didn’t answer. She smiled at him, her eyes fluttering close. Ned didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, holding her hand as she slipped away into nothingness.

Then Ned wept, overwhelmed by his grief.

 _I killed Lady Ashara’s brother for nothing_ , he thought and angled his head to look at Lord Howland Reed. His green eyes glittered with tears as he leaned Ser Arthur Dayne’s blade against the great wooden bed. _For nothing._

“What will you do?” Lord Reed asked as one of the maids lifted the brown-haired in Ned’s arms. It was the boy. _Jaehaerys_ , Lyanna had called him. Howland Reed received the girl, silver-haired and purple-eyes liked her father. _Daenerys_ , Ned recalled and thought it a fitting name as he pondered over the children’s future.

“I shall take the boy to Winterfell,” he replied and touched the babe’s cheek. “He will be my bastard…Jon Snow.”

“And the girl?” Howland Reed asked in return.

Ned sighed deeply and looked at silver haired- girl.

“I will have to ask for Lady Ashara’s help…”

They burned the tower, salvaged Lyanna’s bones and belongings, before leaving this cursed place behind them, the two maids the only witnesses. The older one was called Wylla, a mother of a dead babe, who had suckled Lyanna’s two babes all the way to Starfall. The younger one was called Jyanna. When she didn’t help caring for the babes she cared for Lord Reed, who struck up an odd friendship with the girl.

Lady Ashara had donned a black dress when they arrived at Starfall, as if she already knew what had transpired at the tower.

Ned said nothing as she placed Dawn before her feet. Then, ever slowly, he lifted his head and searched her face, still unable to utter a single word. He had desired her once, had even danced with her, but as often it was Brandon who had won her heart. Ned couldn’t deny that he had been jealous, but now he felt only regret. He would have given everything to see his brother again.

“Did he suffer?” Lady Ashara said in a trembling voice and touched the blade.

“No,” Ned replied and averted his gaze. “It was a quick death…I didn’t know…I am so sorry.”

“I am glad that the Mad King is dead,” she whispered and shuddered visibly as she searched his gaze. “But I cannot forgive you…I cannot forgive the man you call friend…I cannot forgive the usurper for what happened to Elia and her butchered babes.”

“It was Tywin Lannister who gave the order,” Ned replied weakly, though her tear-streaked face silenced him once more.

“And yet it is Robert Baratheon who calls himself King,” Lady Ashara countered, her deep violet eyes alight with fire. “May he have no sons to continued his bloodline…may he find an early grave. I curse him…I curse his entire family.”

Then she started to weep and covered her face with her hands. It was a heart-wrenching sight.

“My Lady…,” Ned whispered and touched her arm, but she slapped his hand away.

“You must think me mad, my Lord,” Ashara replied and touched his hand. “But I have nothing left, but my anger and my tears. I don’t know if you heard about it, but I lost Brandon’s babe…”

Ned squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips, a hint of shame washing over him. _I have a wife and a son_ , he thought and brushed these treacherous thoughts away.

“I heard about it,” Ned whispered. “I don’t think you are mad, but I have a favour to ask of you, my Lady…” he trailed off and waved his hand at Lady Jyanna, who he had left waiting at the entrance of the solar.

“My sister bore Prince Rhaegar two children,” he explained, though he was sure she already knew that. “A boy and a girl…The boy has the Stark look and shall be my bastard, but the girl has the Targaryen look. I fear my lie might be discovered if I take her to Winterfell….I cannot give you back the babe your lost, but I can give you this babe…,” Ned trailed off and took the girl from Lady Jyanna’s arms. The small child squirmed a little and opened her eyes, revealing a pair of bright violet eyes.

Ned was afraid to look at Lady Ashara’s face, but when he saw the softness in her eyes, he knew that he had nothing to fear.

“What a precious babe,” she whispered softly and touched the girl’s soft cheeks. “Does the babe have a name?”

“Daenerys,” Ned answered.

“Daenerys,” Lady Ashara repeated, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “And the boy?”

“Jon…Jon Snow,” Ned informed her, omitting his true name. He had to get used to the idea that this boy was his bastard. “I shall take him to Winterfell.”

Lady Ashara gave him a disapproving look.

“Your wife won’t like that.”

“Rhaegar Targaryen’s son cannot remain in Dorne. Catelyn will have to accept my decision,” Ned replied determinedly. “I want to take a least one of Lya’s children home to Winterfell.”

Lady Ashara nodded her head in understanding and brushed her tears away.

“I shall care for the babe,” she promised and gave him a pained smile. “But she can’t be my daughter. My real child is dead…this babe shall be my sister…Lady Dyanna Dayne.”

…


	2. Lord Snow

Dany wore her finest dress, made of shiny Myrish silk, though she doubted her betrothed would even get to see it, as it was hidden beneath her thick pelt cloak. In truth, she would have preferred to wear her riding tunic, breeches and polished boots, but she doubted that would make a good impression.

 _The North is not like Dorne_ ,  her sister had told her and she was right. Not only was the North freezing cold, but the people here were just as frosty. In Dorne people would have graced her with a smile, but in the North she was eyed with distrust. _What is this southron girl doing here_ , she read on their faces and wondered how her sister Ashara could believe that a match with the future Lord of Winterfell was a good idea. Every other lady would have been pleased to wed Robb Stark, but Dany wanted to do nothing more than to go home to Starfall where she belonged. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her sister.

 _I shall be pleased to wed Lord Stark’s son_ , she recalled her promise to her sister and forced a smile over his lips. She felt almost clumsy as she climbed from her saddle, though she always liked to ride the wildest horses in her late Father’s stables.

 _Have you lost your wits_ , she thought as she finally put her feet on the ground and smoothed out her dress. Or maybe it was only the enormity of Winterfell that had blinded her thus.

Massive walls grey walls and high towers loomed everywhere she looked. Winterfell had nothing of the elegance of Starfall, but there was something ancient and breath-taking about these snow-covered walls.

“My Lady Dayne,” a solemn  man greeted her. The long face, the pale grey eyes and the dark brown hair streaked with grey told her that this was Lord Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. Her sister had described him to her, but she didn’t expect such a grim man. He couldn’t be older than thirty, but his grave look made him appear older than his years.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Stark,” Dany replied politelly. “I am also pleased to be here in Winterfell.”

“Then I shall be pleased as well,” Lord Stark replied and leaned down to kiss her hand.

His Lady Wife, Lady Catelyn Tully was a beautiful woman of tall stature. Her soft-red hair curled around her neck and suited her bright blue eyes. She leaned down to place a kiss on Dany’s cheek, but there was something tense about her smile.

Dany tried to ignore these feelings. Robb Stark’s opinion counts, she decided and forced another smile over her lips as she greeted Lord Stark’s heir.

As her sister had promised, Robb Stark turned out to be quite comely. He had a well-shaped face, bright blue eyes and auburn hair that fell in soft curls to his shoulders. “We have prepared a small feast for you,” Robb Stark explained and offered his arm to her, leading her over the large courtyard inside the castle. The servants and the smallfolk eyed her curiously, but Dany ignored them all, her senses focused on the touch of Robb Stark’s arm around hers.

“You shall sit next to me, my Lady,” he whispered into her ear. He had sweet and gently voice, but she felt not the same stirrings she had felt when she gave her maidenhead to Ser Gerris Drinkwater. She had known that she was only a “plaything” for him, but then she had also relished the thrill of taking him to her bed. She had not loved him, so much was sure, but it had been her way to rebel against her family's decision of sending her away from home. In truth, she had not even wept when she found out that he wed a lady from House Yronwood.

She chuckled dryly and pursed her lips.

“That would please me greatly, my Lord.”

Robb Stark’s smiled, though she saw no hint of affection in his eyes as he led her to her seat. _It seems he doesn’t like me either. Mayhaps he takes more after his mother..._

The feast was a small affair, but pleasant. Dany enjoyed meeting the inhabitants of the castle, who were far livelier than the people they had encountered on their long travel to Winterfell. Robb Stark’s younger siblings proved even more entertaining. The oldest daughter Sansa was a pleasant girl, who promptly questioned Dany about the history of House Dayne while the younger girl Arya asked her about her late brother’s legendary sword. Dany was pleased to tell her about the sword and earned herself the brightest of smiles. She knew then that she made her first friend, though she had the feeling that Lady Sansa was also taken with her. She complimented her more than once on her dress.

The other two children, two boys with red hair and blue eyes, proved harder. The youngest named Rickon pulled on her skirt and demanded her cake and the older one named Bran frowned throughout their brief dance as if Dany had inflicted the vilest kind of torture on him. Only when she started to speak about her late brother Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, lightened the boy’s mood; but even that couldn’t convince him to prolong their dance.

“Bran wants to be a knight, but he dislikes dancing…much like myself. I hope you can forgive me,” Robb informed her when she returned to her place, her feet longing for another dance. As a young child she had learned the harp, though she lacked the voice necessary to perform the songs she wanted to play.

“Of course, my Lord,” she replied and brought her cup to her lips.

 _Mayhaps a play of my harp would please my betrothed_ , she thought as she took a sip from her cup, her eyes sweeping across the lower tables.

A group of laughing boys immediately aroused her attention. Two of them were drowning one cup after another while the other boys urged them on with cheers and claps.

One of the boys was tall, dark haired and wore a black cloak, a golden kraken embellished on the back. He flashed the other boy a brazen smile as she re-filled his cup.

“Do you have enough, Snow?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Or shall we have another round?”

The other boy frowned. He was younger than his drinking opponent, his face long and pale. His hair was brown, almost plain, but there was something about the tone of his voice that made her skin tingle.

“Let’s do it, Greyjoy!” the other boy declared in an iron tone. “We shall have another round, before your lady of the day can carries you back to her bed.”

“You dare to insult me, bastard!” the Greyjoy boy cursed the other boy called Snow. _A bastard name_ , she knew though that meant little to her. She knew that the people in the North saw bastards as sinful and wicked, but in Dorne they were considered a “fruit of passion and love”.

“I am only speaking the truth,” the boy called Snow taunted. “Look at you, Greyjoy. You are barely able to stand.”

“Bastard! I will show you!” Greyjoy snarled and aimed for Snow’s face, yet he proved much quicker and managed to move out of the way. It was almost comical to see how the Greyjoy boy lost his balance and kissed the ground, taking with him the cups and a flagon of wine.

The other boys howled with laughter and the boy called Snow carried a triumphant smile as she bought his cup to his lips while the Greyjoy boy tried to get back to his feet, one filthy curse after another leaving his mouth.

“Ned, do something!” Lady Stark’s complained. “They are disturbing the feast!”

Lord Stark sighed deeply and was about to open his mouth when Robb Stark leaned forward and called out to the boy named Snow.

“Jon!” he addressed the boy, an amused smile curling on his lips. “I think you have yet to meet my Lady.”

The boy obeyed immediately, a ghost of a smile lightening his serious face.

Seeing him up close, she realized how dark his eyes were.

“This is Lady Dyanna Dayne,” Robb introduced her.

Dany lifted her gaze and smiled, offering her hand to him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” the boy named Jon Snow replied politely, not even the hint of a smile showing on his lips. “But I think it is better if I take my leave…,” he continued, but Robb cut him off.

“Don’t be so shy, Jon,” Robb japed and jerked his head at Dany. “Have a dance with, my Lady. She won’t bite you.”

Jon Snow’s smile could only be described as tense, but then he lowered his head and offered his hand to her.

“Does my Lady care for a dance?”

Seeing his unhappy look she felt the urge to refuse him, but then she decided against it.

“I shall be pleased to dance with you, Lord Snow.”

He winced at the title and promptly led her to dance floor. It turned out that Jon Snow was a better dancer than most, though the expression on his face could only be described as tortured. He led her through the steps, but the moment the song had stopped he dropped her hand as if it was poisoned and gave her a polite nod.

“I was a pleasure, my Lady,” he added his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at her. She didn’t know how it had happened, but his eye colour had changed again. Now they were grey and clouded and boring into hers as if to taunt her. “But I need my dire rest.”

She nodded her head, but couldn’t help but to keep looking over her shoulder, at this Jon Snow, as he departed from the hall. _What a proud boy_ , she thought a strange feeling taking hold of her heart. No other boy had ever treated her like that. It fascinated her...like a piece of sweets that was denied to her.

“I hope Jon didn’t insult you,” Sansa remarked later, her needle-work in hand. “He lacks manners and rarely smiles.”

“He is a fine dancer and I don't feel insulted,” Dany replied and smiled at Arya, who seemed to approve of her words. “I shall now take my leave from you, my ladies. I am rather tired.”

...


	3. Winter Roses

Days turn to weeks and soon two moons had passed. Dany tried her best to adapt to the cold weather, but it was no use. Every night she slept wrapped up in a thick pelt and wished she could throw herself in the curling flames of the hearth.

Her relationship with her betrothed hadn’t changed all too much. Sure, he was polite to her and did everything that was expected of a young lordling courting a lady, but there was something lacking or maybe it was only her longing for home that made it impossible for her heart to like him.

Robb Stark had shown her every part of Winterfell, had introduced her to the smallfolk and took her riding whenever he found time to do so. He even asked her inquired about her life in Starfall, but there was always something tense in the way he treated her, as if he wanted someone else to be here. _Mayhaps his heart belongs to someone else_ , she wondered not for the first time. _Or mayhaps he just doesn’t like me. All the better. Maybe they will call off the wedding and send me home._

 _I am a burdensome duty to him_ , she thought as she watched him and his brother Jon at swordplay. Sansa was also there and her friend Jeyne Poole. They had picked flowers in the glass gardens and made flower crowns for themselves, pretending to be Queens. Especially, Sansa dreamed of wedding a handsome Prince or some southron lord. _He must be brave, gentle and honourable_ , the girl had told her more than once, but Dany doubted that such a man even existed. _Most men are one of these three things, but not more than that_ , she surmised and watched as Robb bombarded Jon Snow with a barrage of blows.

Jon Snow moved quickly, his steps as sure as one the day he had led her to the dance floor. Left and right, he parried the blows, before bringing his blade down in a perfect arch. Robb lost his balance, stumbled backwards and soon Jon Snow’s practice blade was gracing his brother’s neck.

 _Jon was faster_ , she surmised and clapped, as did Sansa and Jeyne Poole. Arya had also joined them recently and had watched the match with rap attention.

“Good match,” Robb complimented, but the smile on Jon’s lips could only be described as twisted. “But on the morrow I shall be the winner.”

“As you say, brother,” Jon confirmed and brushed the sweat from his brow. Arya used the moment to hop into his arms and peppered him with comments on his footwork.

“Enough, little sister!” he chided her gently to stop her waterfall of words, ruffled her hair and placed her back on the ground. “My head is already squirming. Besides, your Lady Mother would have my head if I gave you a sword.”

“Jon!” Arya called after him in a pleading tone. “Please! Soon will be my nameday! It doesn’t even have to be a big sword!”

“Hush, Arya! You are annoying!” Sansa silenced her little sister with a sharp look. Now she looked almost like Lady Stark, but Dany tried to ignore the feelings washing over her when she thought of Lord Stark’s wife. Her first impression of her feelings concerning Dany’s presence here turned out to be true, though the reasons surprised her. Not long ago she had heard the servants whisper about Jon Snow, calling him the bastard of her sister Ashara Dayne. Dany knew that this was utter nonsense and she had felt the urge to silence them, but then she was only a guest here and didn’t want to make enemies. _I only want to go home_ , she thought again. _And leave this freezing place._

“Arya could never annoy me,” Jon replied curtly, his dark gaze coming to rest on Dany’s wreath of flowers in her lap.

To her utter surprise, a ghost of a smile curled on his lips.

“Winter roses…,” he said and pointed at the flowers. “My Lord Father always puts them on our Aunt’s tomb…I think they suit you well, my Lady.”

Dany was so stunned by his compliment that she promptly dropped the wreath of flowers on the ground.

 _Have you lost your wits_ , she thought and tried to hide her surprise. _The snow must have frozen my brain._

“I thank you…,” Dany muttered and leaned down to pick up the flower crown, but Jon Snow proved faster.

“Here, my Lady,” he said and placed the flower crown atop her head. “See for yourself…very beautiful.”

Dany’s cheeks burned and her heart swelled with a feeling she couldn’t describe. Many a man had called her beautiful, never such a teasing manner as Jon Snow.

“I have to agree with you, brother,” Robb added with a grin and wrapped his hand around Jon’s shoulder. “Lady Dyanna deserves the title Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“That’s not how it works!” Sansa added in a disapproving tone. “There has to be a tourney and a joust. Only then can there be a Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“Says the same person who is pretending to be a Queen and speaks to invisible courtiers!” Arya jested and earned herself a round of laughter.

Sansa’s face was deeply flushed as she left in company of Jeyne Poole.

“I fear Sansa will be upset with you, little sister,” Robb chided Arya, but the girl only grinned and rushed away, Jon chasing after her.

Dany didn’t know why, but she was jealous of the little girl. She had tried more than once to spark up a conversation with Jon Snow, but he always avoided her. Until now she had believed that he disliked her, but why call her beautiful if he disliked her?

“Lady Dyanna,” Robb’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “I am free today…Shall we take a ride in the godswood?”

Dany felt the urge to refuse him, but then she recalled her promise to her sister.

“I would be my pleasure,” she replied quietly and took Robb’s hand.

…

Three weeks passed and life continued as usual, until Robb, Theon and Lord Stark departed to attend a wedding. For some reason, this angered Jon Snow and he spent almost every day exchanging blows with the poor squires.

It was true that her sister had born Lord Brandon Stark a child, but the girl had died only a week after its birth. Her sister never had any sort of entanglement with Lord Eddard Stark and after meeting the man she had a hard time believing that a man like him even managed to father a bastard. Yet there was Jon Snow and nobody could deny that he was of Stark blood. He had the long face, the brown hair and sometimes even the grey eyes, but then on other days his eyes changed to a black colour that reminded her of a starry night sky. _Stranger’s eyes_ , _the eyes of his mother_ , she surmised.

“Jon is angry at Robb, because he asked Theon to accompany him to the wedding,” Arya informed her promptly after Dany had inquired why Jon didn’t appear for the midday meal. Not that she faulted him for it. During Lord Stark’s absence Jon Snow had to sit with the squires. “I plan to invite Jon to a ride in the Wolfswood…Would you like to come with us? You must be lonely now that Robb is gone.”

 This time Dany didn’t hesitate to accept the offer.

Jon Snow seemed bothered by her presence, but the fact that Arya had invited her made it impossible for him to refuse.

Thus they saddled their horses and rode out to the Wolfswood. It was an almost pleasant day, though it had snowed in the morning. Now the sky was clear and the warm sunshine tickled her skin as she pulled down her scarf.

They had reached a hill, a wide clearing spreading before them.

Arya grinned at Jon Snow.

“How about a race to the creek?”

A seldom smile curled on Jon Snow’s lips.

“Is that a challenge, little sister?”

“You can bet on that!” Arya replied and turned around to look at Dany. “Are you going to join us?”

Jon gave her a sceptical look.

“You don’t have to, my Lady…,” Jon began, but Dany cut him off.

“Today I am going to crown you Queen of Love and Beauty, Jon Snow!” she declared brazenly and kicked her feet in the sides of her horse. The animal rushed down the hill, the icy wind biting in her skin.

“I will get you!” she heard Arya’s hoarse voice. “Wait and see!”

Dany spurred her horse into a faster pace, the world around her blurred and distant. She rushed up the next hill, twigs and branches hitting her face as she rode through the forest.

Her heart was racing, the creek Arya had spoken of in clear sight. She urged her horse into another gallop, hopped over a tree trunk and rushed through the glittering water.

Once she had wheeled her horse around she saw Arya following after her.

“Stop frowning, brother,” Arya teased. “It’s no shame to lose a race.”

“I am not angry,” Jon replied, crawled from his horse and brushed his hand through the animal’s dark mane. Then he lifted his head and graced Dany with a seldom smile. “You did well, my Lady. I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

Dany grinned, basking in his compliment. Coming from Jon Snow mouth’s it was no empty flattery.

“I have been riding since I can walk,” she explained proudly. “I have a fine Dornish steed that I wanted to take with me to Winterfell, but my sister told me that the North has not the right climate for these kind of horses.”

“Your sister knows what she is talking about,” Jon confirmed and jerked his head at the thick oak tree, bending towards the creek. The patch of earth beneath it was dry and green.

“Vhagar needs to rest,” Jon explained and patted his horse’s back. “His is getting old.”

 _That’s why he lost_ , she realized then.

“Vhagar,” she repeated as she sat down beneath the tree. Jon sat down next to her as Arya showed them her skills in hopping over the collapsed tree trunks littering the frozen shore of the creek. A storm must have pulled them from the earth. “Why did you name your horse after Queen Visenya’s dragon?”

Jon laughed and jerked his head at Arya.

“Arya likes Queen Visenya…that’s why I named him Vhagar,” he explained to her and pulled out a handful of grass from the wet earth. He seemed nervous, which only helped to sped up her heartbeat.

“I am just surprised…after what happened between your family and the Targaryens…” she trailed off.

“I hate Prince Rhaegar, because he raped my Aunt and I hate the Mad King, because he killed my Grandfather and Uncle, but I don’t hate the other Targaryens,” Jon Snow admitted and lifted his gaze to search her face. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but she couldn’t say if the cold was the cause of it or something else. Let it be something else, she hoped. “When I was a child I wanted to like Aemon the Dragonknight…a silly dream for sure. I also admire Daeron the Young Dragon.”

Dany frowned at that. He could be so confident when it came to his swordplay or when it came to mock Theon Greyjoy, but whenever someone called him a “bastard” he froze as if someone put a spell on him.

“I don’t think it’s silly,” she assured him with a smile, wishing he would take her hand or smile at her again. “You are a good swordsman…You would make a fine knight.”

“I am a bastard…I will never be a knight,” he told her, his voice laced with suppressed anger. “I shall join the Night’s Watch, like my Uncle Benjen.”

She had yet to meet this Uncle Benjen, but she knew who he was talking about. She also heard about the Night’s Watch, but couldn’t see the appeal in spending the rest of one’s life at a freezing place like the Wall.

“You want to be knight,” she repeated. “Why not ask Ser Roderik to make you his squire? He seems to like you.”

Jon looked at her as if she had asked him to drop naked.

“I would need Lord Stark’s approval,” Jon Snow replied and shook his head. “I have no right to ask that of him…he endured enough shame. Allowing me to be here is more than I deserve.”

As so often, Dany’s mouth was faster than her reason.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she told him and searched his gaze. ”The Prince of Dorne has a squire named Ser Daemon Sand….a bastard like you. I see no reason why your Lord Father would refuse you.”

“The North is not like Dorne,” Jon replied curtly and rose back to his feet. “Besides, it’s what I want…I shall be a ranger like my Uncle. I will be respected there, unlike here.”

She realized then where his insecurity stemmed form. He didn’t belong here. _Like me._

“If that’s what you want,” she replied weakly and climbed on her horse. “I hope you accomplish your goal.”

“I hope so too, my Lady Dyanna,” he said and smiled warmly.

Dany averted her gaze. She felt the urge to shout at him, to call him a fool, but his warm smile held her back. She couldn’t bring herself to destroy his dreams.

“Dany,” she corrected him. “Please call me, Dany.”

 …


	4. An offer

A cool breeze was gracing her skin as they rode along the muddy trail. It was the third time this week they had set out to take a ride in the Wolfswood. Officially, it was Arya’s idea, but Dany knew from Bran that Jon had suggested it.

She didn’t know why, but their last interaction had changed his attitude towards her. He was no longer cold, but often spoke to her, sometimes even stared at her from the distance, though he always averted his gaze when she turned to look at him. _He likes me_ , she was sure, though he hadn’t admitted it openly. He had also opened up about himself, telling her about things he liked to do. She had already known that he liked swordplay, but she was surprised when she found out that he enjoyed reading about Daeron the Young Dragon, who was supposedly his childhood hero.

“What you told me about Daeron the Young Dragon…most people in Dorne would disagree with you,” Dany remarked as she led her horse next to his. “We are very proud of our resilient spirit in the face of the might of the Targaryens.”

Jon nodded his head, a ghost of a smile curling on his lips. Arya rode in front of them and Bran behind them. Much to his displeasure he was forced to ride on his pony, which had greatly amused Arya.

“The Dornish killed one of Aegon’s dragons,” Bran added cheerfully, obviously happy that he found something to add to their conversation. “They say the dragon Meraxes was killed by a bolt to the eye.”

“They also say they killed his wife, Queen Rhaenys,” Dany recalled. She didn’t know why, but the story had always made her sad. “Nobody knows what they did to her corpse.”

“And then Aegon set half of Dorne aflame to exact revenge,” Jon added, the wind blowing his brown hair into his face. “His loss was great, but killing all these people was not right.”

“True,” Dany agreed and smiled when she spotted the small creek they had visited before. A week ago the water had been completely frozen, but now there were even patches of green grass visible through the snow. The warm sunlight on her skin was also pleasant, but it couldn’t banish away the cold that penetrated every part of the North. “Well, I am glad your ancestor Torrhen Stark bent the knee or none of us would be here.”

Jon’s smile changed to a thin line.

“I am no Stark,” he whispered to her as he climbed from his horse. Dany, Bran and Arya followed suit. Bran was especially excited, because Jon had promised that they might be able to catch fish. “But you are not wrong…without Torrhen Stark’s actions I wouldn’t be here.”

“Torrhen Stark’s wisdom you mean,” Dany countered and pulled up her dress as she moved through the mud. The ground was soft and wet, her boots sinking deep into the earth as she made her way to the shore, littered with the rotten tree trunks Arya had used as riding practice. “Some might call him a coward for bending the knee, but I think he made the right choice. A crown is not worth losing one’s life. He thought foremost of his people when he made this choice.”

“Mayhaps,” Jon replied in amusement and spread his dirty riding cloak over a nearby tree trunk. “But as you rightly said…there are men who would disagree with you. They prefer dying an honourable death over accepting defeat. I am honest…I don’t know what I would have done. They Torrhen say was a proud man, but it seems the dragons proved scary enough to change his mind.”

“I once read that Aegon’s dragon Balerion was as big as a city,” Arya added her rod already in the water. Bran had followed its sister’s example while Dany preferred to speak with Jon. “No wonder Torrhen was pissing his pants. I would give everything to ride a dragon…like Queen Visenya.”

“Mayhaps I can find a dragon egg for you when I go to the Wall,” Jon added amusedly. “Some say Queen Alysanne’s dragon left an egg at the Wall when she visited the North.”

Arya seemed suddenly less enthusiastic and shrugged her shoulders.

“I rather have you here in Winterfell than see you running off to the stupid Wall. What is there other than snow?”

“Uncle Benjen is there,” Jon replied stubbornly. “And other people like me…”

Arya frowned.

“You are like “us” …I don’t care what mother says. Father won’t send you away and if he does I am going to follow you to the Wall. I will cut off my hair and learn how to fight. Mayhaps I can live with the Wildlings if the men of the Night’s Watch don’t want girls at their stupid Wall. They say the Wildlings allow woman to carry spears…they won’t look at me so strangely for carrying a sword.”

Jon gave Arya a sad smile and ruffled her hair.

“You better stay here and learn your lessons or Lady Stark will wash your ears, little sister,” Jon chided her and earned himself another frown.

The rest of the evening passed far too quickly. Dany could have remained like this forever, listening to the children’s anecdotes of their adventures. She had loved Starfall, but there she had always lacked playmates of her age. There was only Edric, but he was four years younger than her and had been sent away to serve as the squire of Lord Beric Dondarrion. Later she had spent time at other castles, even Sunspear, but sadly not for long. For some reason, her sister had insisted for her to return to Starfall. Dany had been very angry with her, but no pleading on her side had changed her mind. Dany had first thought her sister had found out about her and Gerris, but now she knew was sure that there was a different reason that made her act like that. She was also sure that the betrothal to Robb Stark had something to do with it…

“Girls in Dorne also carry spears,” Dany informed Arya, who gave her a stunned look. “Mayhaps you should marry a Dornish man, my Lady. My nephew Edric is your age…,” Dany added in a jesting tone and received a mortified look.

“I won’t marry! Never!” Arya snapped. “Even if this Edric is your nephew…I am sure he is nice, but I don’t like boys.”

“That will change,” Dany assured Arya and searched Jon’s gaze. “I assure you…not all boys are bad.”

“As you say,” Arya replied and was soon lost in a conversation with Bran. The sky was streaked in orange and yellow when they packed their belongings to return to the castle. Arya’s frown had long disappeared from her face as she was able to catch several fish, which she proudly carried fastened on her bag. Bran was less lucky, but Jon gave him two fish and soon everything was alright with the world.

“You know,” Dany addressed Jon in a quiet voice after they had led their horses back to the stables to settle them for the night. As expected, the stable boys had offered to take care of the horses for them, but like Dany Jon preferred to care for their horses themselves. “I have been wondering about this for a while…Has Lord Stark ever mentioned why he wants me to be Robb’s wife? I cannot make sense of it…Why me? Why not a Northern Lady?”

Jon froze. The expression on his face could only be called conflicted, but he answered as honest as ever.

“Nothing against you, my Lady, but my Lord Father’s lords also thought it strange. Robb himself was not pleased, though I think he forgot about it once he laid eyes on you…,” he explained, but stopped himself when he realized what he was saying. “I doubt he dislikes you…I am sure he will come to like you in time.”

Relief washed over her when she heard this. She couldn’t help but to smile when she noticed his rosy cheeks. _So I was right. Jon Snow does like me._

Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach fluttered. It spurred her on to speak her mind.

“I also wondered if Robb might have a girl to call his own?” Dany asked and searched his face for the hint of a lie.

Jon shook his head, his brown hair falling into his face. Dany chuckled and brushed it away.

Jon gave her a trembling smile and backed away, putting a certain amount of distance between them.

“Alys Karstark…he wanted to wed her, but father refused him,” Jon replied in a whispering voice. “You are right…it makes no sense…my Lord Father is not a cruel man by nature. There must be a deeper reason behind his actions that we don’t know of.”

Dany nodded her head and pulled on Jon’s arm before he was able to run off.

“My offer still stands,” she said and graced him with a warm smile. “I could write to my sister…she could find you a place in Starfall. Lord Stark is your father, but you are almost a man grown. He can’t stop you if you decide to leave and become a knight. I can assure you…nobody in Dorne would think less of you for being a bastard. At least think about it… _Promise me_.”

He frowned, then smiled and lifted her hand to his frozen lips.

“I shall think about your offer... _I promise_.”

…


	5. The sting of jealousy

 A few days later, Jon Snow came to see her while she was wandering aimlessly through the castle.

He didn’t smile, but he met her gaze without hesitation.

“My Lady,” he greeted her and cleared his throat as he walked beside her. “Has Robb ever showed you the crypts?”

Dany didn’t know what to make of this strange question. Jon Snow really had a morbid sense of humour. Robb would have asked her to take a walk in the godswood, but Jon Snow wanted to take her down to the crypts.

Truly, it was the most exciting prospect since Arya had offered her to join her for a ride in the godswood.

“I would love to see the crypts,” she replied warmly. “Shall we go now?”

“If you like,” Jon replied. He looked stunned but led her to the crypts without hesitation. Ever carefully, Jon unlocked the door with a key and lit one of the lanterns placed near the staircase leading down into an abyss of darkness.

Dany stumbled after Jon, trying her best to be mindful of every step, the latern light their only guide in the darkness.

Once they had reached the bottom of the steps they found countless stone statues staring back at him through the flickering darkness.

She counted a dozen, but then she realized that there were hundreds of them. Some carried blades and most of them had massive wolfs seated beneath their feet. _Direwolves_ , she knew.

Now and then, Jon Snow stopped, telling her an anecdote about one of these men. Dany listened with rapt attention. She had read books about the North before coming here, but the tales Jon had told her about were far more interesting.

“And here,” Jon said sucking in a deep breath as he lifted his lantern to lighten the darkness around them. “That’s my Uncle Brandon and my Grandfather Rickard Stark…and over there…my Aunt Lyanna.”

Dany nodded her head and took in the appearance of the statues. Lady Lyanna’s statue showed a beautiful girl, a wreath of flowers wound around her neck. It were the same flowers Jon had placed on her head.

Dany stepped closer and touched them. They were black and withered, but there was something beautiful about them even in death.

“She looks so sad,” she couldn’t help but to remark after taking in Lady Lyanna’s statue. “I suppose that’s only fitting given her sad end.”

“I suppose,” Jon muttered and leaned closer to touch the flowers. “But fresh flowers could help.”

Dany smiled, her heart hammering wildly against her ribcage as she brushed her hand over his. “I shall bring her fresh flowers the next time Sansa and Jeyne Poole feel the urge to impersonate Queens.”

Jon didn’t laugh, his body frozen in time as she touched his hand.

She exhaled deeply and then she lifted her head to look at him.

His eyes were black and blown as he stared back at her in silence.

Dany gathered all her courage and stepped closer to touch his cheek.

She took it as an encouragement that he didn’t push her hand away and touched his hair. His eyes fluttered close and his lips trembled, but then he suddenly lifted his hand to grab her hand.

“I was always jealous of Robb,” Jon admitted, a painful expression crossing over his solemn face. He gently squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips. “I envy him for many things…for having a mother that loves him, for being the heir, for…having you.”

“He doesn’t want me,” she whispered and eyed his lips. “He wants Alys Karstark…you said so yourself.”

“I did,” Jon confirmed and exhaled deeply. “But you are still his betrothed.”

“Did you think about my offer?” she asked in return, not wanting to hear about Robb. “You _promised me_.”

“I did,” he replied hesitatingly, his eyes wandering over her face. He was too close now, his warm breath tickling her cheek and neck. “I agree…I will go to Starfall.”

“And I will go with you,” she added, fearful that he might refuse her at once. “The true is…I never wanted to come here…I only agreed, because that’s what my sister wanted. I owe her so much and I didn’t want to disappoint her…,” she trailed off.

His face was unreadable, his dark eyes piercing into hers.

“What about Robb?” he prodded softly. “What can we do?”

“Simple,” she replied and grabbed his shoulder. “I will tell him that I can’t marry him. Lord Stark cannot force me and neither can my sister. I shall write to her as well and make my intentions clear to her.”

Jon’s eyes had grown wider with every word that left her mouth.

“What if she disagrees with you?”

“Then we will go somewhere else,” she replied in a trembling voice. “Perhaps the Free Cities…,” she continued, but then his lips were suddenly touching hers and his tongue was exploring her mouth. A jolt of desire spread though her body as he pressed her against the wall, his hands pulling on her waist. The kiss was heated, teeth and tongue, robbing her of all reason and setting her aflame.

He was panting heavily when she pulled away from him to catch her breath. His lips were swollen as she pulled on his hand, leading it to her skirt.

“I am not a maid,” she informed him as his trembling hand brushed over her dress. “Do you still want me?”

His answer was another heated kiss, before his lips brushed over her cheek and neck.

She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he lifted her in the air, pressing her against the wall, his hand slipping further beneath her skirt.

He touched her carefully and she bit his shoulder to stifle her whimpers.

Once she had come down from her height she slipped her hand in his breeches, touching him ever carefully. He grunted and rubbed his body against hers, his other hand tightly wound around her shoulder.

He grunted even louder when she pulled her hand away and freed herself from his embrace. Almost clumsily, she pulled down her smallclothes, before moving back into his arms, the sound of her pounding heart filling her ears.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked him, searching his face.

“What if I get you with child?” he asked, his voice strained with desire.

“That won’t happen,” she assured him and walked back into his embrace. “I know how to make moon tea…” she added and laid her lips on his. “Besides, we are going to leave soon. I will speak to Lord Stark when he returns.”

He didn’t hesitate to part her lips once more and lifted her up, her feet wrapped around his waist. Then he fumbled with the laces of his breeches and slipped inside her.

For the blink of a moment, he remained frozen in time, his lips leaving hers briefly. “Are you well?”

She nodded her head, unable to speak.

A shuddering breath left his lips as he pulled out and drove back inside her. He was inexperienced, so much she could tell, but he was a quick learner. She arched her hips, meeting his thrusts one after another and soon he rutting inside her in quick strokes that left her breathless.

Dany tore her lips from his and buried her head in his neck as her release washed over her. A growl left his mouth as he followed after her, nearly collapsing to the ground.

He was still gasping for air as he lowered her back to her feet, his hair sweaty and his face deeply flushed.

She took time to brush his seed away, straightened her dress and shifted her attention back to Jon.

His face was a mixture of pain and happiness.

Seeing his pain, she knelt down and touched his hand, kissing his knuckles.

“You have nothing to be ashamed about,” she told him and cradled his face between her hands to force him to look at her. “I will be Lady Snow.”

His dark-eyes were streaked with tears as he lifted his hand to touch her cheek.

“You would give up your name for me?”

“Aye,” she confirmed and leaned down to kiss him. “I shall be Lady Snow.”

…


	6. Betrayal

Robb and Lord Stark returned two weeks after the incident in the crypts. She had managed to steal tansy from Maester Luwin’s stash, but in the end she decided against taking it. She intended to leave anyway and then they would get wed. No, she had no intention to hide away in the shadows any longer, no matter how frightened she was. Yet telling Robb proved harder than anticipated. On the day of his return Lord Stark had been called upon to execute a deserter of the Night’s Watch. As always, Robb and Jon accompanied him, but this time even Bran was allowed to go. Lady Stark seemed very upset about this, but then she had been very muddy over the last two weeks, her sharp blue eyes always watching her from afar.

_She wants me gone._

Not finding any peace, Dany decided to take a walk. Thus she anxiously ran up and down the ramparts, waiting for Lord Stark’s return.

By late evening they finally returned, bringing with them six direwolf pups they had found in the woods.

The children were of course delighted and even Jon smiled as he presented his white wolf pup to her.

“That’s Ghost,” he declared and lifted the small pup into her outstretched arms. He stirred at once and opened his ruby eyes, his body warm like the skin of a new-born babe. “He is rather small, isn’t he?”

“Mine is called Nymeria!” Arya added cheerfully, fishing for Dany’s attention.

“And mine is called Summer,” Bran said proudly.

“That’s Shaggy,” Rickon added with a toothy grin and pointed at one of the pups nestled in Robb’s arms.

Dany forced a smile over her lips as she looked at him. He looked so happy.

“How did you call yours?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Robb’s pup.

“Greywind,” Robb replied and leaned over to pat Ghost’s head. “But I have to say that Jon chose the best name…this one really looks like a ghost.”

Jon averted his gaze, a tense smile playing on his lips.

“Here,” Dany added quietly and placed Ghost back into Jon’s arms. “Let me help you.”

“I thank you, my Lady,” Jon added and left, his smile long gone from his lips.

After supper, she reminded herself could barely stomach her food. Jon’s eyes met hers across the table, but not for longer than a heartbeat. Lady Stark seemed also rather anxious and tapped her fingers on the table. When they had finished eating, Lady Stark leaned over to touch Lord Stark’s arm.

“Your Father has an announcement to make,” she declared tensely, her blue eyes fixed on Lord Stark.

“The King is riding for Winterfell,” Lord Stark explained, his voice laced with sadness. “Jon Arryn has passed away…,” he trailed off.

The Stark children were excited, but Dany couldn’t care less about the King.

 _By then we will be long gone from this place_ , she assured herself and returned back to her chamber. She felt anxious and sat down near the windows. For a while she watched Bran, Arya and Rickon run about in the yard below, but the creaking of the door roused her from her stupor.

It was Lady Stark, her expression cold and distant. Dany tried to be as polite as possible, despite the woman’s obvious dislike for her.

“How can I help you, my Lady?” Dany asked and dipped her head.

“Come, my Lady Dayne,” the Lady replied sharply. “We need to speak…please follow after me.”

Dany didn’t know what to make of her cold words, but then she didn’t want to make an enemy.

“To do what?”

“To speak to Lord Stark,” the Lady replied coldly as ever, her eyes piercing into hers. “Come now.”

“Very well,” Dany replied haughtily and gathered her skirts. If Lady Stark thought she could scare her, she was very wrong. “Let us go to Lord Stark. I wanted to speak with him anyway.”

It truth, Jon planned to be there as well, but then Dany thought it better if she handled this matter on her own.

This time she received no answer, only silence. Dany was glad for it and followed after her.

Lord Stark was in deep conversation with Robb when they entered the study.

“Ned,” Lady Stark said and exhaled deeply. “We need to speak.”

Lord Stark looked surprised, his grey eyes darting from Lady Stark to Dany and then back to Lady Stark.

“What about?”

“I found this,” she explained, pulled something from the vest of her cloak and placed it on the table littered with parchments. Only when Lady Stark had stepped away from the table she saw what she had placed there.

Her heart nearly stopped and she felt the urge to slap herself. It was the tansy she had wanted to use.

Dany was so shocked that she was barely able to utter a word.

“I found this in Lady Dayne’s rooms…tansy…stolen from Maester Luwin’s stash,” Lady Stark snarled. “What upright girl needs tansy?”

Lord Stark froze in his seat and Robb looked utterly confused, his blue eyes darting to hers. Dany could scarcely look at him, but Lady Stark received no such curtsy from her.

She had no right to search through her belongings and yet there was no use in denying the truth.

 _At least I can go home_ , she thought and met Lady Stark’s gaze. _And Jon can go with me. We will be happy._

“Aye, it is mine. I took it,” she admitted. “I needed it…there is someone else,” she added and searched Robb’s gaze.

“I am sorry,” she added and trembled. “But I can’t marry you…I wanted to tell you…I will go home at once.”

Robb’s eyes widened in shock, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the table.

“How long?”  Robb demanded to know, his voice laced with anger. “And who?”

“Only once,” she admitted and gathered all her courage, yet she was unable to bring the words over her lips. ”I cannot tell you who it is.”

“You don’t have to tell us,” Lady Stark said icily, her eyes fixed on Lord Stark, who had been silent throughout the whole exchange. “It was the bastard…one of the servant girls saw them together.”

“Jon,” Robb muttered, disbelief written all over his face. “He wouldn’t do that…No.”

Then he turned around and bolted out of the room.

Dany had wanted to stop him, but Lady Stark grabbed her arm to keep her in place.

“The truth is right in front of you, my Lord!” Lady Stark snapped at Lord Stark as Dany tried to free herself from her tight grip. “First you brought this bastard in our home and this Dayne girl…and look what happened!”

“Cat,” Lord Stark cut in and gave her piercing look. “Let her go!”

Lady Stark did as she was asked and Lord Stark shifted his attention to Dany.

“Go back to your room and don’t come out until I call for you,” he told her in an impatient tone that left no room for further question. “We shall speak later.”

Yet Dany wanted to hear none of it.

“Jon didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested, but his sharp look silenced her.

“Now,” he repeated his command and this time Dany obeyed. Thus she gathered her skirts returned to her chambers. At once she started to pack her belongings and decided that she had no intention to stay longer than necessary.

Once she was done she opened the door and found one of the guards man placed beside her door. She asked to leave, but he ushered her back inside, despite her loud protests.

Not knowing what to do with herself she sat down on the bed and waited.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next time she woke she found her chamber cast into bright moringlight.

Judging by the stars flickering on the distance horizon, it was early in the morning. Sure that she wouldn’t be able to find any sleep, she changed into a fresh dress and brushed out her hair.

By then one of the guards came to bring her breakfast. She asked to leave again, but the guardsman gave her an apologetic look and the door was promptly closed behind her.

She ate in silence, barely able to get down her food.

Midday came and soon it was evening. By late evening she wanted to break down the door, though she knew that she lacked the strength to do so.

Finally, the door opened, though it was not Lord Stark, but Robb who came to see her.

“My Lady,” Robb’s greeted her. “Can we speak, Dyanna?”

“Dany,” she corrected angrily. “Not even my late father used to call me Dyanna…I always preferred Dany.”

She knew it was wrong to blame him, but her pent-up anger had overwhelmed her reason, though she felt a hint of guilt when she saw Robb’s hurt expression. _He never wronged_ me, she realized and rose to her feet.

“Forgive me…my anger was speaking,” she explained and searched his face. “Can I go home now? Jon can go with me. Your Lady Mother Lady won’t have to look at us again…,” she continued, but Robb cut her off after head had promptly closed the door behind him.

“Jon is gone,” he gave her the hard truth. “He left for the Wall. Father asked him to go.”

His words cut deeper than a sword.

“But why? Why can’t he go to Dorne with me?” she asked, hot blinding anger exploding in her chest. ”Nobody there will care if he is a bastard…,” she continued to rant, but Robb’s piercing look silenced her.

“He agreed to go,” Robb countered and stepped closer, his hand reaching out for hers. “To redeem himself.”

Dany slapped it away and backed away, feeling like a trapped animal. She suddenly felt the urge to hurl herself from the tower to hurl. Everything was better than being locked up here in this damn castle.

“Redeem himself for what?” she snarled. “I asked him to fuck me…because I wanted it.”

“I didn’t ask him to go,” Robb defended himself, his face a grimace of pain. “He went freely.”

“Why did you not stop him, then?” she asked accusingly, shouting at the top her lungs. “He is your fucking brother!”

“He betrayed me!” Robb shouted and grabbed her shoulders, keeping her still. Dany latched onto his arm and buried her fingernails deep. “He knew that you were promised to me. He did it to get back at me.”

“I am not yours!” she snapped back and spit into his face. Finally, HE let go of her and backed away, his blue eyes wide in shock “I will never be yours. I will go home and you can marry your girl.”

“You know about Alys?” Robb asked and cleaned his face. “Who told you?”

“I heard about it from the servants,” Dany lied, her breathing laboured as she balanced herself against the wall. “It is true, isn’t it? Why did you agree to marry me when you wanted someone else?”

“Because it doesn’t matter what I want,” Robb explained. “Father asked me to marry you and that’s what I am going to do. I shan’t mind that you are no maid. We shall marry after the King’s visit. Jon seduced you. It was a mistake and nothing more.”

Dany didn’t believe her ears.

“Are you deaf?” she asked, her voice raw from all the shouting. “I asked him to fuck me and I enjoyed it. There will be no marriage. I will go home.”

“It’s you who is blind,” Robb insisted. “My brother used you to get back at me. At least that’s what my mother thinks. He was always jealous…,” he began, but Dany silenced him when she slammed her hand against the wall.

“And does that surprise you?” she asked, her voice laced with contempt. “Your Lord Father allows him to grow here with his trueborn children while making clear to him that he will never have what you and your siblings. Even the best of men would be jealous in such a situation, but I know that he didn’t do it to get back at you. We intended to tell you the truth, but then your mother ruined everything.”

He didn’t speak or answer. He simply stared back at her in silence, his mouth a thin white line.

Dany didn’t want to see his face anymore.

“Leave me now!” she snapped one last time. “And tell Lord Stark that I am not his fucking hostage! I shall never marry you and I shall go home to Dorne where I belong!”

“Very well…I shall tell him,” Robb replied through clenched teeth and left, the door closing behind him with a loud cracking sound.

Exhausted, Dany sank back on the floor, her body trembling from all this madness. No tears came, only more and more anger filled her heart.

Anger at Robb and also at Jon, for allowing her to rot here.

…

She didn’t know how much time had passed until she received her next visitor. It could have been days, but also weeks, though that didn’t help to ease the rage inside her heart.

“When can I go home?” she asked Lord Eddard Stark upon his entrance. She didn’t care that he was a Lord or that her sister respected him. What he had done made him her enemy. “I told Robb that I want to leave.”

“Peace, my child,” Lord Eddard Stark replied in a calming voice, his grey eyes filled with a mixture of pain and regret, though that could have only been her imagination. It was difficult to read his emotions. “I only want to speak with you.”

“There is nothing to speak about,” she informed him promptly and crossed her arms in front of her. “You sent Jon away, because of one misstep…How can you be so cruel?”

“I think you misunderstood, child,” Lord Stark replied dispassionately. “Jon was always meant to go to the Wall. Your brief diligence had nothing to do with my decisions. Jon agreed as well…to save your honour. You can still marry Robb…nobody will ever know the truth.”

“My honour,” she repeated. “What right do you have to speak about honour? What is your honour other than cruelty masked by false virtue? What right do you have to decide for me or Jon? You guilt-ridded him into it, didn’t you? All Robb told me is a lie and nothing more. I shall not marry Robb and shall go home.”

She had shouted at the top of her lungs, her throat hurting from the exchange.

When she lifted her gaze to look at Lord Stark she found only pain. For a brief moment she hoped that something might have moved his cold heart, but when she spoke again he realized that it was no use. It was like running against a stone wall, hoping it might crack.

“Very well, my Lady,” Lord Stark replied and exhaled deeply. “You shall travel with us to King’s Landing and then I shall send you back to Starfall.

Dany nodded her head.

“That would please me,” Dany replied and cast her gaze to the ground. “When will the King arrive?”

“A week or two from now,” Lord Stark’s answer echoed in her ears. “But for the time being you have to stay inside. I want no more fighting.”

“I won’t leave,” she snapped back. “I am after all your _honoured_ guest, my Lord.”

A week passed and Dany was allowed to watch the King’s arrival through her window. Not that she cared about him, but it was the first interesting thing that had happened since she had been locked up here like a common prisoner.

She didn’t attend the feast either, though it had been offered to her. She had no interest to receive their accusing looks. Some of the servants must know what had transpired, no matter how secretive Lord Stark tried to be.

She remained locked up in her room, though on the next day she received a sudden visit from Arya.

“Ayra!” Dany exclaimed and she even managed a smile. “What brings you here?”

The girl looked incredibly pale, devoid of her usual lively self.

“Bran…,” she stuttered, tears glittering in her eyes as she stumbled towards Dany. “He fell from the Broken Tower…”

Dany gasped, unable to believe it. She had seen him climb thousand times. The boy was half a squirrel. How could he have fallen?

“Is he…is he,” Dany said, barely able to force the question over her lips. “Is he dead?”

“Not yet,” Arya informed her. “He is asleep. Maester Luwin thinks might not wake up again. And now we are going to leave for King’s Landing. Father is going to be Hand of the King and Sansa is going to marry this stupid Prince of hers.”

Dany tried to be happy for Sansa, but she felt only resentment.

“Did you ask your father to visit me?”

“Aye,” Arya confirmed and brushed her tears away. “I asked him to visit you. I wanted to speak with you. Is it true what they say about you and Jon?”

Dany saw no reason to lie to her and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Aye,” she confirmed and brushed Arya’s hair out of her face. “I wanted to take Jon to Dorne. He could be a knight and marry me.”

Arya’s eyes widened in understanding and her hands covered Dany’s.

“Jon didn’t want to go,” Arya whispered to Dany. “He and Robb had a terrible fight before his departure. Jon even gave him a bleeding nose and rode off after saying goodbye to me. I have never seen him so angry.”

 _He never wanted to leave me_ , she was convinced. _I was such a fool._

“Arya,” she croaked, tears burning in her eyes. ”How do I get to Castle Black?”

A smile curled on Arya’s lips.

“You have to follow the King’s Road.”

“How long does it take to get there?”

“A week or two, depending on the weather,” Arya replied in an unsure tone.

Dany nodded her head, fear and determination quarrelling for dominance inside her heart.

“Can you help me to get away?”

Arya graced Dany with an assuring smile.

“I think I can.”

…


	7. Maester Aemon

The road to Castle Black was hard and long. Yet her fear of getting caught was worse. To avoid attention she had cut her hair and had kept her face hidden beneath a thick shawl.

The weather proved even colder, but for someone like her, born and bred in Dorne, it was worse. Even when the sky was slate blue and the sun was finally bursting through the clouds did she feel the cold creeping into her bones.

Her only consolation was that the North was a deserted place and that nobody had noticed her lone horse riding down the King’s Road, though sometimes she had left the path, fearful that Lord Stark might have sent men to retrieve her. One or two nights she had even slept in the woods.

The last part of the road proved the worst. Every day it snowed, the sharp wind biting into her skin. Her food was also dwindling and her horse was beginning to grow weary.

 _Nothing burns like the cold_ , she had heard someone say before and it was true. By the time she had reached the next town her food was gone.

 _You are in Mole’s Town_ , one lady, presumably a whore, had informed her and had offered her a warm meal in exchanged for a coin. By next morning the sky had cleared and she got her first real glimpse at the Wall. She sighed in relief, realizing that she reached the place she had been searching for.

Weary from her long travel, she slept for a few hours, before climbing back on her horse to continue her travel towards Castle Black.

…

Fresh snowflakes melted in her face as she urged her horse towards the large gate.

“Who goes there?” asked a young man armed with a spear, his face hidden by a black mottled cloak.

“My name is Lady Dyanna Dayne,” she replied, not hiding the truth. She hoped the fact that she was a highborn lady might help to keep away unwanted attention. “I am here to speak to Jon Snow.”

“Snow, eh?” an elderly man asked and brushed the snot from his nose. “As in the bastard of Winterfell?”

“Aye,” Dany confirmed, relieved to hear that Jon was still alive. “The same Jon Snow. Will you open the gates for me?”

“The Wall is no place for womenfolk,” the elderly man grumbled, eying her from head to toe. “But I can’t send you away either. We will open the gates for you, M’Lady high.”

Dany sighed in relief as the gates opened with a groaning sound.

“Pyp!” the elderly man called out to the younger one. “I saw you running about with Snow. Show her the way, but keep your hands to yourself.”

“At once,” the boy piped back and pulled down the hood of his cloak. He had a long pale face, his floppy ears flushed from the cold. “Follow me, M’Lady. Jon should be with the other recruits.”

They found the recruits training on a large yard, but Jon wasn’t among them. Instead they came about a grim man named Ser Alliser Thorne.

“Another recruit?” the man asked, his narrowed eyes piercing into hers. “Looks like a girl, though that wouldn’t make any difference. The Night’s Watch is full of green boys and weaklings.”

“I am no recruit,” she informed him and pulled down her shawl. “I am Lady Dyanna Dayne and I travelled all the way from Winterfell to speak to Jon Snow.”

The name caused quite the visceral reaction. He wrinkled his nose as if Dany had thrown a heap of shit in his face.

“Snow accompanied Ser Piggy to see Maester Aemon,” Ser Alliser informed her curtly and shifted his attention back to Pyp. “Make sure that the other fools stay away from her. I don’t want a highborn lady raped on my watch, though you are certainly foolish for coming here, my Lady,” he continued to rant, his gaze still fixed on Dany. “The Wall is no place for womenfolk.”

“I understand, Ser,” Dany replied, her nerves strained and her body numb from the cold. “I shall not linger longer than necessary.” _I will take Jon away from this horrid place, even if I have to drag him along._

“Good,” she heard his answer echoing in her ears, but she ignored it. The sound of her thrumming heart was the only sound in her ears as Pyp led her towards a wooden keep, a round tower sitting atop. On the roof she spotted several ravens, their small black eyes watching her as Pyp opened the door for her.

The smell of raven shit filled her nose as she entered into a dimly-lit home.

“Oh!” she heard someone whimper. “Have mercy!”

It sounded like a dead animal, but then she realized that it was a boy, a very big boy.

He was seated at the table while a very a very old man was applying some kind of paste on his naked arm.

Yet it was not the old Maester or the weeping boy she wanted to see, but the young man, who had his back turned to her, his hand resting on the big boy’s shoulder.

“Keep still, Sam,” the familiar voice said. “Or Maester Aemon can’t do is work.”

“But it hurts!” the boy complained, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Gods…I am dying…I am dying.”

“It is done,” the old Maester declared, his voice laced with obvious amusement. “The paste should help to ease the pain, but I want you to come back on the morrow.”

“Thank you,” Jon answered for the weeping boy and turned around, but stopped half way when he noticed their presence.

“Pyp…What…,” he began, but when Dany pulled down the hood of her cloak she froze.

His mouth opened and closed, his dark eyes impossible wide as he stumbled towards her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Dany,” he whispered, his rough hands touching her hair and cheek as if to be sure that she was real. “How did you get here?”

“I followed the King’s Road,” she managed to answer, her hands curling around his shoulders. “I came to get you. I won’t marry Robb.”

Jon stared back at her in disbelief, his face a grimace of pain. She also saw tears, his grip on her shoulder impossible tight.

“Jon Snow,” the old Maester’s croaking voice interrupted their moment, though she heard no malice in it. “Would you could introduce us to your visitor?”

“Of course,” Jon Snow said and freed himself from her embrace. Then he touched her shoulder, leading her towards the old man, still seated at the wooden table. The boy named Sam gave her a curious look, before slipping out of the room.

This close, the old Maester looked even older. _He must be at least a hundred years_ , Dany mused.

“This is Maester Aemon Targaryen.”

“Targaryen,” Dany repeated, realizing that this was one of the last Targaryens left in this world. “I mean…It is a pleasure to meet you…I am Lady Dyanna Dayne,” she stuttered and lowered her head in greeting, though she doubted the old Maester was able to see her. His pale eyes told her that he was blind.

“Dyanna Dayne,” he repeated her name, a loving smile curling on his thin pale lips. “Like my Lady Mother.”

Dany was stunned by his reaction, but this old man seemed happy to see her.

“I think I don’t understand you…,” she stuttered in confusion. “Your mother?”

“Lady Dyanna Dayne was the name of my Lady Mother. She was wed to King Maekar, my father.”

“Oh,” Dany said. “True…that makes us kin. Forgive me. The connection escaped me.”

“No need to apologize, sweet child,” the old Maester replied and waved his hand. “But would you mind if I touched your face? It has been too long since I have seen someone of my kin…even if it is from my Mother’s side.”

“Of course…,” Dany stuttered and moved closer. “Of course.”

A bit hesitant, she moved closer as the man smoothed his fingers over her face. He touched every part, from the crown of her head all down to her chin.

Yet she read no happiness on his weathered face, only confusion.

“How old are you, my child?”

“Ten and four,” she replied in confusion. Jon didn’t speak, his body tense and his face incredibly pale. “I was born on the fourteenth day of the third moon of the year 283…,” she trailed off and touched his trembling hand.

“I thank you, child,” the Maester croaked, his eyes glassy as he leaned back in his chair. “I am pleased to know that one of _my kin is still alive and well_.”

Dany nodded her head leaned over to place a kiss on his hand.

“I shall tell my sister about you. She grieved for your family’s loss.”

A lone tear rolled down the old man’s cheek and he fell silent, his breathing slightly laboured.

“Your sister is a good woman,” Maester Aemon added, after he had regained his composure and shifted his attention back to Jon Snow.

“Lady Dayne shall be our guest,” he declared. “It will take at least a week before the Lord Commander returns. The King’s Tower should give you the privacy you are seeking. I think you will have to make a decision, my boy. Take your time.”

Jon Snow swallowed hard and graced Maester Aemon with a pained smile. “Thank you, Maester Aemon.”

**...**


	8. The truth

Jon did as Maester Aemon had bid him and showed her the way to the King’s Tower, an uncomfortable silence spreading between them.

“Here,” Jon said and opened the oak door studded with iron. “Come inside.”

Dany nodded her head and stepped inside, taking in the dusty room.

She swallowed hard and decided to come straight to the point. She was terribly exhausted and she wanted him to understand what pain he had caused her.

“Why the fuck did you leave me?”

He froze, his back still turned to her. A tense moment of silence passed between them, before he turned around to look at her. The expression on his face could only be described as pained and conflicted.

“I…,” Jon stuttered and fiddled with his black cloak. “Lord Stark asked me to go.”

“That’s no reason to go to the Wall!” she replied angrily as she searched his face. “I told you I have no intention to marry Robb. Did you not trust me?”

He looked as if she had slapped him, his eyes wide in shock.

“No…that was not the reason,” he admitted, struggling for every word. “There is another reason. Lord Stark told me the truth about my mother.”

“Your mother,” she repeated speechlessly and touched his arm.”What could be so bad about her that you would leave for the Wall?”

“My mother was a highborn lady,” he forced the words over his lips, his gloved hand brushing away the hair that had fallen into her face. His touch made her shiver, but she averted her gaze, still angered by his actions. “He showed me her grave, down in the crypts of Winterfell. You have seen her grave too, Dany.”

Dany searched her memory and realized then that there was only one grave in the crypts of Winterfell that belonged to a woman. It was the grave of Lady Lyanna Stark, her sad face still etched into her mind. Her cheeks burned as she recalled what they had done down there, but it also made her realize what he was trying to say.

“Lord Stark,” she forced the words over her lips and tightened her grip on his shoulder. “So he took his own sister to bed? Gods, no wonder he never told you the truth.”

He immediately pulled away, backing away from her as if her touch was poison.

“Gods no, Dany,” he muttered to himself, his voice laced with pain as rubbed his hands over his face. “Lord Stark would have never bedded his own sister. What I am trying to say…Lord Stark isn’t my father. My father is Rhaegar Targaryen.”

She stared back at him in disbelief, everything falling into place.

She still couldn’t believe it.

“What are you saying?” she asked, louder than intended. “He raped…,” she continued, but Jon’s shaking head silenced her at once.

“That was another lie!” he snapped angrily, his dark eyes blazing with anger. “Prince Rhaegar never raped my mother. He loved her and apparently wed her.”

Dany tried her best to follow, but none of it made sense to her.

“Wasn’t he wed?” she asked in return.

“He was to both wed to Princess Elia and my mother,” Jon confirmed. “Not that it matters. Most people would still think me a bastard, but it doesn’t change the fact that Lord Stark lied to me. He said he did it _to protect me_... _to protect me from King Robert who butchered my half-siblings_ ,” he continued, but fell suddenly silent. Then he averted his gaze, flexing his hand in a nervous gesture, before shifted his attention back to her.

His face looked as pale as curdled milk and he trembled as if he had caught a cold.

“There is more, isn’t there?” she asked, anxious to hear the rest of this mad tale.

“Aye, aye there is much more you need to hear,” he confirmed anxiously and rubbed his hands over his face, before he spoke again, in an almost quivering voice. “The true reason I left…Lord Stark told me to stay away from you, because…because you are my sister. Our mother…Lyanna bore two babes, but they separated us to protect us from King Robert. You had to stay with Lady Ashara, because your Targaryen looks resemble the looks of the Daynes and I was taken to Winterfell. You were meant to wed Robb, because that would have surely prevented you from claiming your birthright and it was the same reason Lord Stark wanted me to go to the Wall. When Lord Stark told me that we are brother and sister I was shocked and angry. So I agreed to go, though I had no intention to stay. I was so confused and then I met Maester Aemon and shortly after you returned. I wasn’t even sure whether I wanted to swear these vows…,” he trailed off.

Dany could only gape at him in disbelief.

“You are joking with me, aren’t you?” she asked and laughed.

“I am not,” Jon replied and stumbled towards her. “By the gods, I am not.”

Dany’s mind reeled, overwhelmed by all this information.

“But why? I don’t understand…,” she trailed off and stumbled backwards, leaning against the wall. She felt dizzy and touched her silver hair. Only her nephew Edric had silver hair like her, though his hair was darker than hers. _Edric is not my nephew_ , she realized. _And Ashara is not my sister. No, Ashara wouldn’t lie to me in such a vile manner._

Yet it made sense and explained Lord Stark’s strange behaviour. It also explained why he was so insistent on marrying her to Robb and wanted to keep her and Jon apart.

“They lied,” she muttered, unable to form a clear thought. “They lied all these years. How could they?”

Then she started to laugh. It was a strange reaction to the truth she had received, but she couldn’t help it. This truth was too absurd to be true and yet it was the only possible explanation for all this madness.

And she was unable to stop, Jon staring back at her with horror and confusion.

“Are you well?” he asked after she had somewhat regained her composure, stepping closer to touch her shoulder. “Do you want me to call for Maester Aemon?”

“I am well,” she assured him and stumbled towards him, touching his face. “You must think me a madwoman. Well, I suppose it is fitting. My, no, our grandfather was the Mad King. Oh, how silly that sounds…how mad. I cannot believe it,” she added and searched his face, exhaling deeply. “But you know what. I don’t care. I don’t care that we are siblings,” she continued and lifted her head to kissed him. He froze for a moment, but then his tongue was in her mouth, tasting hers. She trembled as he pulled her closer against his body only to let go of her a heartbeat later. Suddenly, he was standing a few paces away, his dark eyes wide in shock and his cheeks deeply flushed.

“We are siblings,” he repeated in a horse whisper. “You cannot mean it.”

She shook her head and bridged the distance again, cradling his face between her hands. “Did that just feel as if you were kissing your sister? Seven hells, we don’t even look anything alike. Besides, our grandparents were siblings. Mayhaps it is in our blood.”

He looked at her for a long moment and it was quite clear that he was fighting with himself, but his blown pupils also told her that he desired her.

“Our blood brought forth the Mad King,” he countered, but lifted his hands to touch her shoulder.

She nodded her head, her hands still resting on his cheek.

“True, but it also brought forth King Jaehaerys. Besides, you are not a King or do you think Robert Baratheon is going to yield the crown to us? Let us go to Starfall and forget about all this madness. Nobody but Lord Stark and my sister know the truth. Nobody will care,” she pleaded with him. “What do you say?”

He swallowed a countless of times, but then he leaned down and kissed her again, though only briefly and almost chastely.

“Aye, we shall go,” he assured her and kissed her brow, breathing hard. “But I need to tell Maester Aemon. He will die here at the Wall. To hear the truth will give him comfort.”

Dany smiled, shaking her head in agreement.

“We shall tell him together.”

…


	9. Lady Snow

They found Maester Aemon attending to the ravens, an oil-candle flickering on the nearby desk. How he was able to do all this work without seeing anything impressed her greatly. That this man was her Grand-Uncle, made it all the easier to like him.

 _He must have felt lonely_ , Dany thought and swallowed hard.

“Who is there?” the old Maester asked when he heard the movement of their footfalls on the ground. “Is that you Samwell?”

“It’s me,” Jon replied. “Jon Snow. Forgive me, for startling you, Maester Aemon.”

“Oh, sadly I have yet to acquire the ability to recognize people by the sound of their footsteps. Please, come closer, my boy. I suppose you want to speak with me?”

“Not about my vows,” Jon Snow explained. “I have already made my decision. I am not going to stay here. The Lord Commander will be disappointed, but I am a free man.”

“You are,” the Maester Aemon confirmed and graced Jon Snow with a toothless smile. “Though the Night’s Watch does have need of your abilities. Still, it is your decision to make, not mine. I assume it has to do with your visitor?”

“It is true what you say,” Dany added hesitatingly and knelt down to touch Maester Aemon’s hands. “Forgive me, for robbing the Night’s Watch.”

Then she lifted his hand and placed it on her face.

“The truth is,” she forced the words over her lips. “I am not a Dayne.”

Maester Aemon didn’t speak. He only smiled, his unseeing eyes glittering with tears as he brushed his rough hands over her cheek. “Aye, I knew it, but I didn’t dare to say it openly. I feared I might frighten you. You are a relative of mine, but from my Targaryen side, aren’t you? Who were your parents, my child?”

“Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen,” she whispered into his ear.

Maester Aemon grew deadly silent, his pale eyes growing impossible wide. He started to tremble and for a moment Dany feared for his health. Jon seemed to share her fear for he was immediately at her side, his hand brushing over Maester Aemon’s shoulder. “There is more, Maester Aemon. Are you well enough to hear the _whole_ truth?”

“The _whole_ truth,” Maester Aemon repeated and lifted his hand to touch Jon’s hand, still resting on his shoulder. “What are you referring to, my boy?”

“Dany was not the only babe Lady Lyanna Stark birthed,” he added in a trembling voice. “I was the second babe. In truth, I am not Eddard Stark’s bastard…Dany is my sister.”

“Come here,” Maester Aemon prodded in a whispering voice. “Please come here, my boy. Let me take look at you…let me touch your face.”

Jon looked sceptical, but obeyed. Dany moved aside and Jon knelt down before Maester Aemon.

Ever carefully, he smoothed his fingers over Jon’s face.

Suddenly, he dropped his hand and started to laugh. It was a mixture between pain and happiness. “Your features hide your Targaryen inheritance well. You don’t have silver hair, do you, my boy?”

“No,” Jon Snow replied, his voice laced with sadness. “I have the Stark colouring, but I suppose that saved my life. Still, I cannot stay here. I shall go to Starfall.”

“Starfall,” Maester Aemon repeated and nodded his head in understanding. “You must leave as soon as possible. Better today than on the morrow, but there is something I must give to you. Your father would have wanted you to have it.”

Dany was stunned. _Father_. The term sounded foreign to her ears and yet it was true.

“You knew him?” Jon Snow asked in disbelief.

“I did,” the Maester Aemon confirmed and smiled lovingly. “He came to visit me in secret. He also wrote me letters. He was a melancholic man, but not without humour. I always had a hard time believing that a soft-hearted man like him could have raped a young girl, though I have to say he had a rather obsessive interest in prophecies and ancient tales, though even King Jaehaerys, your father’s grandfather, did believe in prophecies.”

“What kind of prophecy are you referring to?” Dany asked.

“A woodswitch prophesied that a promised prince would be born from Queen Rhaella’s and King Aerys’ line that is meant to bring back eternal spring. That is why they were forcefully married. For many years, Rhaegar believed to be this promised prince, but for whatever reason, he changed his mind. Regardless of his reasons, he left this gift in my keeping.”

“What is it?” Dany asked, barely able to contain her curiosity. “Where did you keep it all these years?”

Maester Aemon gave her a knowing smile. “The library, my child. It’s hidden in the library.”

Jon frowned. “Why there?”

Maester Aemon chuckled. “Because the majority of the men here can’t read let alone write their name.”

“Then we should retrieve it,” Jon Snow added. “Can you remember the place?”

“I am old,” Maester Aemon confirmed. “But I have a good memory.”

“I see,” Jon replied in relief, his face changing to a thoughtful expression. “Then we should go.”

Soon after, they descended into a never-ending darkness of winding tunnles. Dany shuddered from the cold, but Aemon, who was leaning on her shoulder, seemed unaffected. The darkness was even scarier, but for Maester Aemon it was probably by more far more familiar than a world of colours.

After hours of walking they finally reached a wooden door. Jon pushed the door open, allowing them to enter a spacious room full of shelves, filled with numerous scrolls, tomes and books.

“In the right corner, there is an old shelf stacked with dusty tomes,” Maester Aemon explained. “Can you see it, my boy?”

“I can,” Jon confirmed and touched the old dusty tomes with utmost care, probably fearing that they might fall apart any moment. “Where is it?”

“On top you will find a wooden box covered by a good dozen of tomes,” Maester Aemon instructed. “Remove them and bring the box here.”

Jon did as he was asked while Dany held the torch over the wooden box, to give them the necessary light.

“What could it be?” the Dany with growing anticipation as Jon opened the box. “Gold? Old books? Lost knowledge?”

Yet it was nothing of the sort. No, what they found was far more beautiful. At the first sight they looked like three colourful stones, but in truth these were dragon eggs.

“Eggs,” Dan gasped and touched one of the eggs. She marvelled at their warmth. “Dragon eggs.”

“Indeed,” Jon agreed and touched them as well. “How warm they are.”

Then he leaned over to touch Maester Aemon’s shoulder.

“And our father gave them to you? Why?”

Maester Aemon smiled sadly.

“I do not know. I asked him the same question, but all his said was this: the dragon has three heads. Take care of them until I return to you.

…

There was only her, Jon, Samwell Tarly and of course the old weirwood tree that could be found in a small grove located several leagues beyond the Wall. She would have wanted Maester Aemon present, but then his old age didn’t allow for such hardships.

“Who comes before the gods tonight?” asked Sam, who had promised to play the role of the speaker.

“Lady Dyanna Dayne comes to be wed, a woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods,” Dany replied and smiled at Jon. _The gods will curse our union_ , he had told her when she had suggested getting wed before their return to Starfall.

 _The gods can go and fuck themselves_ , she had returned and Jon had graced her with one of his beautiful smiles.

“Who comes to claim her?” Sam asked in return.

“Jon Snow,” Jon replied, his voice nearly drowned out by the howling wind. “Who gives her?”

“Samwell Tarly,” Sam stuttered, took her hand and placed it on Jon’s. He looked nervous, his cheeks deeply flushed from the cold.

“Do you take this man?” Sam added and shuddered when a gust of wind made the leaves of the weirwood rustle.

“I take this man,” she replied with purpose and tightened her grip on Jon’s hand, least he ran away again, to pledge his life to the Night’s Watch.

Then, Jon finally smiled. It was as if the sun had broken through the clouds.

He had no cloak to give her either, but that didn’t matter.

“You may now kneel before the gods…to receive their blessing,” Sam recited and waved his hand at the weirwood tree.

Jon pulled her along, kneeling before the crying face of the weirwood tree. The sight of the face was terrible and beautiful at once, the whispers of the old gods filling their ears. Their song was soon joined by Ghost’s bright howl.

Dany didn’t know how to address these gods. In the south people lightened candles and sang songs, but in the north the people had no need for such fancies.

Slowly, they rose back to their feet and Jon kissed her, banishing away the cold from her body.

And they would have probably continued, had Sam not interrupted them.

“It’s getting rather cold,” he complained through clattering teeth. “And Maester Aemon is waiting for us.”

“Then we shouldn’t let him wait,” Jon agreed in amusement, his hand still wound around her shoulder. “We have to take our leave from him.”

At dusk they returned to Castle Black and broke their fast on dark bread, broth with honey and a cup of mulled wine.

“So, you will be going back to Starfall?” Maester Aemon asked, his voice laced with sadness. Dany’s heart ached at the thought of leaving him, but it was better to leave before the Lord Commander returned. “A beautiful place. I have often visited my mother’s home when I was a young boy. More importantly, you will be safe there. I only wish you could go with us.”

“But we could write you,” Dany offered, tears burning in her eyes as she leaned over to touch his hand. “Or you could write us?”

Maester Aemon gave her a toothless smile and squeezed her hand. “I think it is better if I write you, but only in measure. I do not wish to risk your safety, my sweet children.”

“We shall write you at least once a moon,” Jon insisted and shifted his attention to Sam, who was seated next to the hearth, his face still deeply flushed from the cold. “What about you Sam? Do you want to come with us? You could stay at Starfall or go to the Citadel as you always wanted?”

Sam’s expression could only be described as star-struck.

“I cannot go,” Sam replied fearfully. “My Lord Father would kill me. You know that, Jon. Besides, someone has to stay here with Maester Aemon. He has need of me.”

“I see,” Jon said and sounded slightly disappointed. “I only wish I could do more for the Night’s Watch.”

“You could try reconciling with Lord Stark,” Maester Aemon suggested gently. “He is Hand of the King and could be of help to the Night’s Watch.”

Jon frowned, but didn’t protest.

“I will think about it,” Jon grumbled, though Dany could hear the resentment ringing in his voice. “But I cannot give you my promise. Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, my boy.” Maester Aemon replied softly. “Your anger is understandable, but let me give you this last advice. It is never good to give oneself up to anger…,” he continued and angled his head towards the hearth. “And fear. Your Lord Father has no right to determine your future, Samwell. If it is your heartfelt wish to be a Maester even your Lord Father cannot stop it. I shall write to the Citadel and give you my personal recommendation.”

“But…the Lord Commander…!” Sam stuttered, but Maester Aemon’s smile silenced him.

“The Lord Commander shall be pleased to hear that Castle Black will have a worthy successor for a Maester once you return from your studies.

Tears streamed down Sam’s face, his mouth opening and closing in silence.

“No need to thank me,” Maester Aemon assured him, though Dany had the feeling that he wasn’t just speaking to Sam. “I was a pleasure for me to help you, Lord Snow and Lady Snow. May you all have a kinder fate.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write a sequel in the near future, probably when Season 8 comes around.


End file.
